


I Run So You Won't Have To

by islandgirl_246



Series: Where Do We Run? [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alpha Laura Hale, Alpha Peter Hale, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, F/F, M/M, Murder Mystery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Survivor Guilt, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 00:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9630851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islandgirl_246/pseuds/islandgirl_246
Summary: After everything the Hale Packs, both in Stanford and Beacon Hills have been through, Lydia and Maria thought why not give this thing a try. The interest and attraction is there, they are both strong women, they could do the distance thing, surely. The only problem is neither is sure that this is the right step for them, which leads to complications for the two Packs only now getting back on their feet. And it all gets even more complicated when Stiles encounters previously peaceful packs dying in weird brutal attacks.





	1. High Strung

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first F/F fic, so be gentle and patient with me. I’m going to try to keep Lydia’s character canon, but don’t be shocked if I fail at it, I tend to ignore canon a lot. 
> 
> If you’re starting at this point some of what happens may leave you with questions despite my attempts to give background and context. It would be better to start with Running . . . But Not Far Enough, and go through When Running Becomes A Pain before you get here. It can be read alone, there are a few references to situations that occurred before in both fics which I tried to background but the full effect of knowing and understanding may be trying. I hope not.
> 
> I intend the series, all of them, to be read like one huge book. Though I want each to also stand alone. In this one though, we begin a new mystery that will run through the other two parts to follow. Next will come Danny and Parrish’s story and then we will end with the focus on Peter and Stiles once more.
> 
> I started this as a single chapter, but then decided to break it into three. Danny and Parrish may or may not be a single chap fic, but I’m leaning towards not... The final instalment in the series will definitely be multi-chap. Ok, let me shut up. Enjoy!
> 
> This is now part 3 in the Where Do We Run Series.

_High maintenance._ It was her first thought before anything else about the banshee registered in her consciousness. _Prissy_ and _a bossy pain-in-the-ass_ – those thoughts came later; along with a cautious reassurance to _stay clear, no need to have anything to do with her. She’ll be gone soon enough._

_And boy was she wrong. **Oh, so wrong!**_

“I’m not asking you to declare your undying love for me, but dammit, I’ve never been anyone’s dirty little secret and I don’t intend to start with you.” When Lydia was mad, despite how hard she tried not to let it, her voice could become painful on the ears. Especially when those ears were attached to the particularly sensitive head of a werewolf.

“I never said you were a dirty secret, Lydia, or any kind of secret. I don’t think that, and I’ve never treated you like it. Everyone knows we’re . . . a . . . thing . . . together,” Maria struggled for some form of calm and reason in her voice, though she grimaced at her obvious lack of a term to define their . . . _relationship_?

Lydia was the queen of voice manipulation, but she had to try because whenever Lydia looked like this, it would mean a couple days or weeks of hell for whomever was on the receiving end of her displeasure. Right now, unfortunately, that was Maria.

 _How the hell did she end up ‘involved’ with a rich chick anyway?_ It was several leagues removed from her very working class existence and upbringing. One she’d always been proud of, having risen to where owning her own business was something to be proud of and something she would never have considered as a child, nor would her family, living on the edge of poverty as they did.

It wasn’t something Lydia rubbed in her face – in fact doing just the opposite. She tried as much as possible to find ways in which their lives combined and complemented each other; going out of her way to curb her controlling instincts to allow Maria the freedom to also have a say in what they did and how they fit together.

The problem was the trips back and forth between Beacon Hills and Stanford were beginning to chaff for Lydia. She was always the one making the journeys, because Maria couldn’t leave the store, had something to do for the Alpha, or some other excuse not to revisit Beacon Hills, and she was tired of feeling like she was running behind someone for a relationship. Someone, she now felt was not as invested. After so many teenage years of Jackson and their unhealthy relationship, this dysfunctionality burned fresh again.

“I’ve told you I don’t need words,” Lydia lied and knew it was a lie as it left her lips. She shook herself, “Actions speak more to me than words anyway and you flinch and avoid any discussion about us with anyone but just the two of us. For the past two years you’ve managed to keep any discussions strictly away from discussing a future, and I’m not built that way, Marie. I hate feeling like I’m in this by damn myself.” Lydia folded her arms across her ample chest. It pushed her boobs up and Maria didn’t believe for a moment that the viciously smart banshee wasn’t aware of what she was doing. Ordinarily it would be a tactic that she would shortly use to entice her partner with a wry smile; now it was a smack down, a reminder of what she had to offer and that anyone with half a brain would want.

Lydia though, was probably too pissed to even think about the messages she was sending. She was sexy and she knew it. She didn’t need to flaunt it because she did it all effortlessly, but she was not above a not-so-gentle reminder that she could have anyone she wanted. It was a side of her Maria both hated and loved – but they still hadn’t said the “l” word. Maria trembled at the mere thought of it.

“Am I wasting my time here, Maria? Because my pack needs me every bit as much as yours needs you. So tell me if you want this.”

“What’s wrong with what we already have going?” Maria stressed quietly.

“And what is that? What exactly do we have going because I’m not sure anymore?” Lydia felt like screaming. Like letting the pipes rip and not being concerned about the consequences. But ever since the night she screamed a wolf to death, she been more conscious of exactly what kind of damage her voice could wreck.

Before Maria could answer, there was a frantic knock on the library door. She moved to open it to find Erica on the other side, with a wailing cub in hand and held back her sigh of relief at the reprieve.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” Erica uttered, despair in her voice and reflected in her stressed countenance. “She’s restless and Stiles is on the Realm. She won’t eat anything, she just cries. No fever, no teething, just this!” This, was a screaming, wriggling arm full of near two-year-old infant baby.

Erica’s daughter Everdeen was apparently throwing a wolfy tantrum. It didn’t happen too often, but when it did very little could settle the young wolf. Maria moved forward and reached out for the babe, pulling her close against her chest, head settled in the cradle of her neck, but even then the tears and crying didn’t stop. Maria looked apologetically at Lydia, who waved a dismissive hand and left the library.

 Erica took a deep breath and only just realised what she’d walked into. “Gosh, you two were . . .,” Erica trailed off, guilt in her voice.

“Talking, just talking,” Maria said quickly. “We can pick that up later. Leave Evie with me. I’ll come find you when she’s settled.”

Erica looked at her hesitantly. “Go, Erica. I got this. You’ve got a deposition report to finish and court to prepare for tomorrow.” And with that Maria hustled her out the door and closed it, and her eyes too, mind on her partner and her utter dissatisfaction with the argument that Erica had only just prevented from going nuclear.

Erica, stretched as she was with her current wrongful dismissal suit could not truthfully argue the reprieve.

Maria retreated to the library’s most comfortable sofa with a snuffling and upset Evie. Then, Peter Hale’s most taciturn beta began singing to the cub. She placed the little girl across her knees, face and arms hanging down, as stubby legs still kicked in passion, and rubbed circles into her back while singing a Cantonese lullaby. It was a ditty Maria had learnt at her grandma’s knee, and from the time Evie had been born she’d began singing it in private to the cub. Evie loved it and it always settled her when she got fussy. Even though she was growing in a hurry like every new were-cub did, sometimes she could get overwhelmed and when she did, she reverted back to tantrums.

Her method of calm was something Maria kept close to her chest. She hated any form of vulnerability. Erica still had no clue what it was that Maria did, she only knew it worked. She’d actually nicknamed Maria ‘the Baby Whisperer’, when at times she was the only one that could get Evie to sleep, much to the chagrin of her papa, Boyd, and Erica herself, and the jealousy of honourary Uncle Stiles.

Within minutes Evie’s snuffled had lessened to deep shaky breaths, and Maria stopped singing but continued to hum the tune. Another five minutes and the baby was out like a light. She sat there and continued to rub her back, the action soothing to her as well, even as it cast her back to a happier time before her world had collapsed into blood, death and pain. No matter how she tried to forget, it was always there, and she was scared to death of losing anyone else she cared about; especially someone she loved.

++++++

Somewhere in the back of her mind Lydia had known they would come to this point. The relationship between her and Maria had started so quickly and just continued, a lot of it without any in depth discussion about what they were or even _if_ they were. It’d become a thing, without either of them, _no that wasn’t exactly true_ , without Maria really committing to anything. Lydia had launched herself into it, even if with a little caution, from the very beginning.

After Talia’s death and Laura became Alpha, both Hale packs, in Beacon Hills and Stanford had been in such turmoil. Added to which, Stiles’ scary new powers and the realisation that he was an actual Prince from an ancient line of supernaturals and in fact the last of his kind, only added to the confusion. So imagine starting a _relationship_ in the midst of all that turmoil. Trying to become the stand-in Emissary for Laura and her pack after the pack had in fact killed the last Emissary, Dr Alan Deaton for his treachery alongside Talia and the entire Elders Council of Beacon Hills pack . . . **_man it had been a mess_**.

So when Maria offered a shoulder and comfort, like so many of Peter’s beta’s did, and _it_ became something more – they just went with it. And _it_ became a situation of Lydia trekking to Stanford ever so often and spending time with Maria and of course her best friend Stiles and his new mate, Peter, whom she had to admit she did not expect to like and respect so much. And she continued going despite the fact that Chase, Maria’s closest pack mate clearly despised her for reasons she still didn’t truly understand. It left her hurt and unsettled, similar to what she felt about her own pack when Talia led.

That Talia had betrayed so many was a blow and one Lydia could not and would not have stood by. So when she’d put herself on break from the pack, not even knowing then the duplicity that was afoot, she did not know she would end up in the crosshairs of Talia’s and Deucalion’s goons. Luckily Erica, Boyd and Peter’s other betas had been there, alongside the Argents to defend.

She’d also been able to discover new skills with her voice then too, some more scary than others. She could put compulsion into her voice, similar to a siren, though not as powerful, and convince someone to do what she wanted; but most devastating was the realisation was that she could also kill with a well-placed, well-pitched scream. The corpse of one of Deucalion’s murderers told the gory story.

So here she stood now on the edge of Peter’s pack house wondering if something that started in such circumstances as that had been doomed from the get-go.

++++++

Erica was hurrying back to her table where papers lay strewn everywhere when she glanced outside. She closed her eyes and grit her teeth. _No, she couldn’t just leave this alone_ , so she went out the doors.

“You ok?” she asked walking up behind Lydia who was staring blankly into the trees behind the pack house.

“No. . . No, I’m not.” Lydia sighed.

“I’m sorry about interrupting. I didn’t realise you two were in a serious discussion or I would have . . .” she trailed off because really she wasn’t sure what she would have done differently.

Lydia huffed a smile and turned to her friend. “You would have what, let Everdeen scream down the house until Peter wanted to rip his ears off? I’m a banshee and sometimes I wonder if that child doesn’t have stronger pipes than even I do.”

“I don’t know what happened. She was fine one moment and then it was like a siren going off, no pun or offense intended. I don’t even know if I’m spoiling her giving in every time that happens.”

“Does it happen often?”

“No, not really, but . . .”

“Then you have nothing to worry about. Evie’s not spoilt and she’s not a trouble child. She’s just a cub learning what it means to be who she is. You’ve years yet of this and there is no shame in wanting to comfort your child when she’s distressed. That’s part of motherhood, I think.”

“So who’s going to comfort your distress?” Erica asked softly.

Lydia turned away again, not wanting to show her vulnerability. “We’ll work something out, I’m sure.” She paused to glance at her watch. “Look I’d better get going. I have to meet with Celeste this evening.”

Celeste was a local vocal coach whose husband was a were-jaguar, so being fully aware of the supernatural community, sometimes she assisted banshees, mer-folk and others who used their voices supernaturally in channelling them correctly. She’d been working with Lydia for the past five months.

“Ok. Have a good session,” Erica remarked, then added, “And Lydia, you know what I heard when you said you’d work something out don’t you?”

Lydia closed her eyes briefly. “Yeah, I know.”

Erica watched her friend walk away concerned that things weren’t right or settled between Maria and Lydia. Whatever they had been “discussing” when she’d interrupted had clearly left Lydia wondering if their relationship clearly would survive. The skip in her heartbeat said as much.

She needed to talk to Stiles, Erica thought, resolved to hunt the Breton and pack Emissary down when he returned from his High Council duties. But now, now she had a case to finish prepping.

++++++

“You smell like death,” Peter said, as his lips brushed his mate’s, when Stiles walked into the bedroom and leaned over to greet him.

“Why thanks, dear. Just the thing I was hoping to hear from the love of my life.”

Peter smiled and glanced up as Stiles began stripping out of his robes. He usually only wore them when the Queen insisted or for official functions. Right now he looked particularly unsettled. “That bad huh?”

Stiles scrunched his eyes closed as if the mere memory was more than he could bear. “They showed no remorse for what they’d done. Like they didn’t even know what they did was wrong. I could sense no regret, no sorrow, only glee. They decimated an entire pack, Peter and showed nothing for it. The ones they killed were peaceful people, not prone to violence and no reason to have been targeted by anyone,” he dropped his hands and just stopped undressing, although Peter, truth be told, was kinda enjoying the show.

He got his mind back on his mate’s distress when Stiles continued, “That pack didn’t deserve what they got. We should have been able to stop it before it got this bad. It never should have got this bad. How did we miss it?”

The pain in Stiles’ voice had Peter setting aside the History papers he’d been marking and moving to the edge of the bed where Stiles had dropped, sitting with his back to his mate. He encircled the young man in his arms. Sometimes he forgot the age difference between the two of them and the fact that Peter had seen way more thoughtless cruelty than Stiles had before he’d become the Hand of the High Council; their primary executioner, although most of the time he worked alongside the Council’s High Guard, Eugene, shapeshifter Eric’s granddad.

Peter didn’t know how much more Stiles could take of the brutality he was charged with dispensing on those who broke the Council’s laws indiscriminately. The last two years hadn’t been particularly bloody, but lately there’d been a rise in the number of times he’d been pressed into action to carry out a sentence. This was the first time though, that Peter had seen him return in this state and he was worried.

“Maybe it’s time to renegotiate your role in the Council with the Queen,” he suggested softly, as he placed a kiss behind Stiles’ right ear, bracketing Stiles’ body between his legs, knees raised on either side of the younger man.

Stiles all but melted into the warmth and affection. “I just need to figure out what’s been happening; where this sudden spike in violence is coming from. Once we settle that then things on every realm should return to normal. Right now people are starting to get a little antsy, which is not good because a worried and prickly supernatural community is one hunters will prey on and try to rile into making mistakes.”

“I hate you coming home feeling and smelling like this,” Peter contended. “It’s unsettling.”

“I know. Let me go wash the stink off me then you can replace the smell of soap with something else,” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows a bit, and Peter gave way to a smile, knowing his mate wanted to lighten the mood.

“I’ve a better idea,” Peter reached down and stripped the T-shirt that had been hidden within the robes, from Stiles’ chest, dropping it onto the floor to retrieve later. He pressed a kiss to his collar and began to nibble on his shoulder. Stiles’ whole body took notice.

“I love your ideas,” he murmured as Peter slid from the bed, pulling the younger man to his feet and into the bathroom.

++++++

“I thought you turned down the offer,” Laura said coming up beside her Second, spotting the letter in Lydia’s hand.

“I did. They called again with a better offer. A ridiculously good offer, if you ask me.”

Laura nodded, she’d been expecting as much. “Are you reconsidering?” It would be a blow to the pack, but they could work something out.

The effort to rebuild and strengthen over the past years had been good for a number of reasons. They now had a local Elders’ Council that actually functioned as it was meant to, providing guidance not just to the Alpha, but other pack members in need of spiritual, financial and other kinds of counsel. The Pack itself was stronger with bonds that were like nothing Laura had felt, even before the deaths of her grandparents.

The Nemeton was conscious and tapped in to the heartbeat of Beacon Hills once more which fed into their own strength. They had worked hard to rebuild rifts that had been created and ensure everyone in the pack knew their worth, even if they did not carry a position. Alliances were also being built far and wide, with other packs and other branches of the supernatural community. In short, it had been a tough, but good two years for them all.

But Lydia had been unsettled for the last few months. Laura knew it had something to do with the beta in her uncle’s pack, and stood back to give them space until Lydia needed to talk. Laura now wondered if there was serious trouble in paradise which was causing Lydia to reconsider taking a job that would move her away from Beacon Hills and back to Harvard.

“I don’t know,” Lydia responded as she swallowed thickly.

“Don’t make rash decisions, and certainly not when it’s romantically based,” Laura cautioned, as her friend and pack mate turned to look at her.

“Am I that transparent?”

“Not really, I just know you, Lydia. You’re not given to emotional decisions, at least not since Talia,  and . . . well that’s over now. But since you returned to the pack and pledged your loyalty to me and to all of us, you’ve been a solid influence in this Pack. That hasn’t changed. And if you’re now looking at running off, I have to wonder why and there’s only one thing that comes to mind – Maria.”

Something that looked suspiciously like tears glittered in Lydia’s eyes before she turned away from her Alpha.

“I don’t know if this is meant for me anymore.”

“Have you spoken to her about it?”

“Who? The Queen of Avoidance?” she laughed mirthlessly. “I just need to think. I promise not to make a decision without talking to you first, but if Harvard wants me back I don’t know if I have it in me to refuse. An offer like this does not come along even once for most people let alone twice in a lifetime. If I turn this down again, that’s it. They will know not to offer it again. But it’s what I studied for, what I worked my ass off through that university for.

“Working for labs here in Beacon Hills will never compare with the resources I would have at my fingertips at a university like that; just knowing what I could learn and contribute. They want to meet, just to talk, no commitments.” She turned back to Laura, “What do you think?”

“You can see what they have to say. It’s not every day Beacon Hills gets a visit from elite scientists from Harvard, current company notwithstanding, but I’m also not the only one you need to tell you’re considering this. You know that right?”

And just like that Lydia deflated and was back to where she’d been when she left Stanford that afternoon – uncertain of where she stood.


	2. It's So Much Easier To Just Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria has a realisation that could either end in the dissolution or the renewal of her relationship with Lydia, and Stiles is once more summoned when another pack is attacked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As perhaps the one who understands Maria best, Chase will try to help her get to the bottom of what’s causing the rift with Lydia, although there’s no love lost between him and the banshee. I kinda like this story more than I thought I would having never written one like this before. Lots of pack dynamics in this chapter.  
> Hope you enjoy.

Stiles bounced down to breakfast on a high. He’d had a fantastic night in Peter’s arms and was pleasantly sore and very satisfied. Usually nothing could stop this kind of infectious smile from spreading to his pack mates; unless of course, said pack mate was Maria, who looked like she was ready to tear something apart.

“Should I run for the hills or help you bury the body?” Stiles asked, only half joking.

Maria didn’t even turn from where she was glancing down at her phone, tapping out a clearly angry response. “That depends on whether you have a problem with that body belonging to your best friend.”

With that bombshell, Maria left the table, grabbing keys from the counter and marching from the house. Seconds later he heard the roar of a motorcycle speeding away from the house.

Chase rushed into the kitchen as the sound of the motorcycle faded. “Dammit. I told her I was taking the bike today,” the beta argued, before he subtly sniffed the air and turned to Stiles, worry replacing anger on his face. “Is she ok?”

“If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say no,” Stiles said, brow in a frown.

“Smells upset, and it must be a hell of an argument for it to linger like this. What were you two arguing about anyway?” Chase wasn’t normally the blunt one. He’d throw himself into a fight in a heartbeat, to defend a pack member, but he and Maria had a particularly special bond given their pasts and their mutual losses.

The beta could still recall how broken his friend and pack mate had been after they’d lost virtually everything to the Alpha Pack. He hadn’t smelled Maria in this much pain since then and it raised his hackles a bit not knowing what, or who, was responsible.

“Maria and I, nope, no argument here,” Stiles eased onto a stool at the kitchen island, still facing Chase. “When I came in she was already upset. May be something to do with Lydia.”

“Dammit!” Chase hissed. “I told her . . .” he broke off, raising slightly guilty eyes to the Prince, who was also his pack Emissary and best friend to the woman he was about to make a scathing comment about.

Stiles raised a brow in question at him. Chase coloured a bit before, “Uh, nothing. I’m going after her. I have a feeling she shouldn’t be around antiques in her state.” Without anything further, he turned.

“Take the jeep,” Stiles offered. “I won’t need it today. Just be careful with my baby, and maybe put on some clothes first.”

Chase paused, surprised at the offer. Stiles did not allow anyone to drive his jeep since they’d transported it down from Beacon Hills and Peter had personally seen to the refurbishments that made it safer to drive and less likely to die in the middle of the road. Chase nodded without wanting to examine what the offer actually meant.

It left Stiles alone to ponder for all of two minutes, before Erica came into the room wrinkling her nose with a look at Stiles and an excited Evie in her arms.

Immediately the baby reached out for Stiles, and Erica dropped her in Stiles’ outstretched hands. “Unca, Sties,” the baby said, giggling. Evie preened, babbled at him, a mixture of baby gibberish and actual words, clasping his face between her extremely warm infant fingers, as he smiled at her, pretending to chew on the small pudgy digits. At times she pronounced his name surprisingly well for an infant just shy of two years; at other times it all came out like baby talk.

“You have no idea how much you reek of Peter right now,” Erica said as she began the process of making Evie a breakfast of fruits. “It’s not cute anymore, Stiles.”

“Oh yes it is,” Peter said, walking in to smack a kiss to Stiles’ lips and Evie’s forehead as she continued to giggle. He press a hand to the small of Erica’s back in greeting, teasing, “We’ll be a hundred and it’ll still be cute.”

“You mean you’ll be a hundred, and I’ll be however old I’ll be,” Stiles muttered.

“Here we go again,” Peter sighed.

Since finding out his family had been made extinct more than 200 years ago in Earth years, but little more than 40 in human years, Stiles had contended ever since that if he was still on High Rock, he’d be older than Peter. It was a running thread of much amusement.

“Delusions of cuteness, that’s what this is,” Erica responded. “Anyway, what’s got into Maria and Chase?”

“What’s wrong with Maria, you mean. Chase I think is trying to prevent a meltdown of seemingly epic proportions. Not sure if he isn’t already too late.” Stiles reached out and snagged a piece of fruit from the melon she was dissecting.

When Erica swallowed but didn’t say anything, Stiles looked up, second piece of fruit halfway to his lips after pinching a piece for Evie. “What?” he asked, tone serious.

Erica exhaled. “I think there’s trouble brewing between Maria and Lydia. They were fighting yesterday in the library and Lyds was pretty much close to tears out back after.”

“Ummm,” was Stiles’ only sound.

Peter silently put the coffee on to percolate before opening the fridge for eggs and bacon.

“Pancakes,” Stiles requested when he saw the makings. “Hungry.”

A wry smile passed Peter’s lips before he opened the cupboard to remove the instant mix and some chocolate chips, holding the latter up for Stiles’ OK. When his mate nodded he plucked a bowl and began his prep.

“I didn’t know what to do, Stiles. They’re both my closest friends but I don’t know. They’re both so stubborn sometimes.”

“Tell me about it,” Peter grumbled from the back.

“Hmmm,” was all Stiles said.

Since learning to control his gifts, at least the ones he knew about, reading others’ minds was something he avoided at all costs. But even without reading anyone’s mind, he knew they’d been heading here for a couple weeks now. Lydia was not a patient woman in the best of times, and Maria was still very love-shy, so it was no secret they were going to end up at this point at some time. The issue was now how to mitigate this without the entire two packs getting involved.

Laura had called last night to let them know there was a fire brewing under Lydia, and Stiles knew from the pack bond that Maria was unsettled as well. More than anyone else in pack, Maria was the most adept at blocking her feelings from everyone. So while the bond sensed she was unsettled, the exact degree was not something she allowed to filter down.

Stiles however, Stiles knew.

“You need to go start getting dressed. We’ll feed this little hungry bundle. When you come back we’ll have breakfast ready for you,” Peter told Erica. He knew and could sense her own worry about her case in court this morning on behalf of the mother of three who’d been fired after telling her lecherous boss to go to hell when he propositioned her. “Go!” he urged one final time and the beta went.

“So whaddah ya want to talk to me about?” Stiles said, feeding Evie more fruit.

Peter shook his head. He should have known that his mate would immediately be suspicious of his intentions. “Do we need to intervene?” he asked plainly, setting the bacon on to fry, and spooning the first set of batter into a pan.

“Let me talk to Lyds and try to figure out what the hell is going on. If Maria’s this far bent out of shape, it means I maybe should’ve done something before. I kept hoping they’d solve it together,” Stiles sighed. It was moments like this, when he figured as Emissary he should have been there for his pack member and again as a shoulder for his best friend, that he again wondered about his duties to the Council. _Was he stretching himself too thin?_

He didn’t want to pry into Maria’s thoughts, although he could. He hated such obtrusiveness but if it meant peace in the packs and less pain all around maybe he should.

“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking, don’t,” Peter said, as something flashed across his mind. With his back to Stiles, he plated the first set of bacon. “Don’t go against what you know is right. Never that.”

Stiles sighed this time, planting a kiss in Evie’s hair. “Ok. You’re right. Of course you’re right. I just don’t want them to have it as hard as we did. Maria’s been through so much already.”

“Please, at least we knew how we felt about each other. That was never the question. Those two still haven’t figured that out. With us, it was more about what the hell was happening around us and not knowing what exactly you were. The two of us, together, that was the easiest deal,” Peter refuted.

Stiles scoffed, raising his eyebrows in a most impressive manner. Time, or rather Peter, had taught him how to do the eyebrows thing.  “I seem to remember an argument about whether you wanted me because of what I am and not who I am.”

“That was more you than me. I was never in doubt.”

“Right, so your period of grumpiness and man-pain, when we weren’t speaking was what exactly?” Stiles smirked, and it blossomed into a full grin.

Peter growled. “I’m gonna kill Boyd,” he muttered, and Stiles laughed.

“What did I do now?” the pack Second in question walked in, plucking his daughter from Stiles hand and blowing a noisy kiss into her cheek making her giggle.

“You told him I was moping over him.”

“Geez! Can we just let that go? That was not a good period for anyone.”

Peter smirked down at the pan as he flipped the last pancake. “No work today?”

“I’ve got a few things I can work on from at home, so I told Joe. I’m definitely flying out at monthend though. Have to ensure everything is on schedule for the Myanmar project.”

Peter hmmmed. “How long this time?”

“Maybe a month. We’re taking the guys with us again for a bit more hands on training. So the next one they won’t need me physically on hand as much. Or at least that’s the concept we’re working with. It’s hard being so far from the pack sometimes, especially Erica and Evie.

“And before you say it Stiles, I know you can bring me back as often as needed, it’s just too risky. We still want to keep all this on the low down and while I think your skills are impressive, I’d rather not take the chance someone comes looking for me and I’m suddenly back in Stanford without ever leaving camp. We can make do with Skype or Facetime or Facebook chat, whatever, until.”

Stiles shrugged and dug into the plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs set before him, as Derek and Braeden walked into the kitchen with soft smiles and good mornings to the pack members there.

Peter began plating more meals for his pack, nephew and his nephew’s mate, trying not to worry about Maria. A brief shared look with Stiles and a brushing of their minds though, he knew he wasn’t successful in hiding his concern.

++++++

“Just leave it be, Chase,” Maria huffed, slamming a folder onto her desk. She needed to go over the figures today and while right now she was too worked up to think straight, neither did she want to discuss Lydia, even if with her pal.

“How am I supposed to leave it with you in here sulking like this?”

“I’m not fucking sulking. I’m pissed off, there’s a difference.”

“What’d she do this time?”

“Don’t Chase. Just don’t.”

“What, I’m supposed to pretend not to see or smell your pain and pretend to not know the source of it?”

“That’s just it!” Maria blew up, tossing the file across the room in a fit of agitation, eyes glowing. “You don’t! You don’t fucking know the source of it, or the reason. Just fucking stop blaming her for everything ok? If you’re going to be my friend, be my friend, but don’t do that, that thing you do with Lydia. It’s not all her!” Maria hated that her voice shook.

Chase went quiet and squeezed his tall frame into the antique chair in front of her desk. He really hated this fucking chair and she knew it. Ordinarily she’d be crowing or at least smug that she’d managed to force him to have to sit in it again, but there was no such flippancy in the moment. Now he didn’t know how to help. As usual he’d assumed it was Lydia’s fault, whatever _it_ was.

The thought made him frown. _When had he become that person that blamed another without really knowing them?_ Despite the little more than two years they’d all been acquainted, he’d just never taken to Lydia. She’d always seemed so above it all, so put together and . . . _privileged_. She radiated ease and a sense of upper class that seemed to taunt him, despite the fact that he was a very successful trader himself. As a result he tended to avoid her more than he bonded with her, despite her closeness with Stiles and what she’d done to save Erica, Boyd and by extension, a then unborn Evie – his pack, his family.

He felt like a heel, so he simply said, “Then talk to me, Maria.”

His friend and fellow beta exhaled, a pained and shaky sound. She flopped down into her chair, running a rough hand through her hair and looked on the verge of tears. “I don’t know how to give her what she needs, Chase. I . . . I’m scared of losing her but I don’t know how to be what she wants.”

“And what is it that she wants?” he asked after another brief pause.

“I’m never going to be one of those lovie dovie, always kissing, hand-holding, snuggle together type girlfriends, lovers, whatever . . .”

“And she says she wants this?”

“She wants to know where we’re going. What else could she want but all the trappings that come with being a couple?”

“Look, I can’t claim to be her biggest fan, but have you asked her if that is what she wants?”

Maria looked ready to blow and he held up two palms to halt the explosion: “All I’m saying, Marie, is before you assume to know what she wants from you and decide that you can’t meet it, talk to her. I’m not her biggest fan, but I am yours, and if she will make you happy then I’m willing to put my big boy boxers on and support you in that. But not if you sit here agitating about not being what she wants when you have no clue what that is.”

“And what happens when I’m right?”

Chase gave her a bitch please look. “Who says you’re going to be right?”

His friend shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and his suspicion grew. “Ok, you wanna tell me what’s really going on?” Maria dodged his gaze, eyes on her desk in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture and he frowned. “Marie?”

“James. What when she finds out about James,” she asked distressed, and Chase’s heart clenched. _Of course!_ He should have expected it would come back to this.

++++++

Lydia glanced at her phone again, mind split between the meeting she was about to have and her own text argument with Maria. The woman had blown up at her this morning when she asked if they could talk and Lydia had said she had a meeting.

When Maria challenged that she really didn’t have a meeting but was avoiding her like she had been since last evening, Lydia had angrily responded that she was meeting with colleagues from Harvard. When Maria had asked why, and Lydia had calmed enough to realise what she said, she knew she couldn’t hold back from telling her girlfriend anymore. So she’d confessed that one of her old professors and another researcher from Harvard had come down to meet with her.

Honestly, when Lydia had called last evening to accept the meeting, she really didn’t expect that they would have gotten a flight that evening and arrived in Beacon Hills to meet with her immediately. It thrilled that they were this anxious to add her to their research team, even as it made her nervous that it had not given her chance to talk to her girlfriend about it first.

Maria had blown up again. _< <If you want to go, go then!>>_ had been the angry text in response to her confession and she’d wanted to collapse into tears. It couldn’t end like this, surely. She was in love with Maria. In love like she hadn’t allowed herself to be since . . . since ever.

Dr. Keller brought her attention back to the meeting with a soft voice about how and what she’d been doing for the past while.

And so her meeting continued. A meeting that should have filled her with joy, while her heart broke into little pieces.

++++++

“You’re sure there’s nothing I can do? I hate knowing you’re both in pain, Lyds,” Stiles said to his friend.

“It’s something we have to figure out Stiles and no amount of meddling by either you or Danny is going to make the littlest bit of difference,” she said.

Stiles sighed. He felt like this had become his default lately, a deep sigh and disappointment. “How is Danny? I need to come visit, but things have been crazy.”

“Crazy how?” Lydia asked, grasping at the chance to shift the topic to something that would not make her feel like her lungs were collapsing.

“Nothing I can talk about yet, Council stuff,” he revealed.

“Anything to do with the talk about that pack that died out in Mexico?”

“What do you know about that?”

“I guess what everyone else knows. That a pack attacked another and the Council dealt with it, but there’re rumours that not all were caught?” she ended on a question. As Emissary, at least stand-in for now for the BH Pack, it was her job to know these things, to trace rumours back to the truth. “Is that what’s got you so busy? You guys only caught some of them?”

“Lyds, I can’t comment on that. Please don’t ask me,” he pleaded.

“Fair enough. So ditto about Maria. We’ll do what we need to not to drag the packs into it with us. I gotta run Stiles. But please let the Council know your bloody mission is really not a secret anymore and if there’s information we need to safeguard our packs out here, we really expect to be brought up to speed. Talk to you later little brother.”

Lydia hung up and Stiles worried, as he felt the pull from the Realm. He was being summoned again. It was too soon; _way too soon_.

++++++

Peter walked in the door, hanging his coat and picking up the note in the side dish by the door. Stiles’ handwriting. His mate was on the Realm again. Another emergency meeting, or so it seemed. Peter dreaded what that could mean.

He followed his nose into the kitchen, where Boyd stood at the stove, listening to the news on some television network, while Evie, who was in her high chair sat banging a fat crayon against a piece of paper filled with colourful lines and squiggles.

“Got Stiles’ note?” the beta asked.

“Yea.” Peter responded.

“He was nervous when he left. I think this one is bad again.” Boyd said.

“I figured if he’s been called again this soon.” Peter went up to place a kiss on Evie’s head and scent her. She just smiled and continued ‘colouring’.

“How worried should we be?” Boyd finally paused to look at him, scenting his Alpha’s apprehension.

“I won’t know til he gets back. He always puts his shields up when he’s there. Nothing comes through.”

His Second nodded. “Ok. Let us know if we can help.”

Peter squeezed Boyd’s shoulder. “You ok here? I’ve got some papers . . .”

“Go. It’ll be a while yet to dinner.”

“Ok. Any word from Erica? How’d the case go?”

Boyd’s smile was blinding before he even said a word. “She won. Said that after she called her first witness, the lawyers asked if they could meet in closed doors to settle. She totally surprised them with all the information she was able to gather. She really kicked ass.”

Peter felt buoyed by the news. He could use some good news in the lead up to Stiles’ arrival whenever that would be. “Good. Good.” The Alpha was retreating to his upstairs office, as Alissandra walked in tossing down her back pack on the kitchen table.

“School blows!”

Peter raised his brows at one of the two newest betas in the pack. Alissandra and Alexander were two orphan pups the pack had taken in after their former pack had abandoned them. The twins were the result of an affair and after the Alpha had tracked down his wayward mate, he’d killed both mother and her lover, and left the pups to fend for themselves. They’d been living off scraps and in hiding for years when Stiles found them and brought them home, half-emaciated and scared out of their minds.

Their rehabilitation was ongoing, but they were slowly coming into their own. Aliss being the more outspoken of the two. Her brother the shy, studious one of the two 14-year-olds.

“How’d the test go?”

She froze, like a deer in headlights and looked at her Alpha, swallowed and said, “Fine?”

“Fine, as in ‘I passed, Alpha’,” he used a falsetto voice, “or fine as in I told the teacher to suck my balls again and got barred from the classroom?” Peter raised brows.

The scared look started to fade and the girl flopped into a chair, brushing a hand through her pixie hair. They’d had to shear most of it off due to infestation when she’d been brought to them and she had ever since favoured shorter hair. “I promised no shenanigans this year and I meant it, Alpha. No looking for trouble unless it comes looking for me. I don’t know if I got an A, but I think I passed.” She grinned at him as she reached over and ran a finger down Evie’s hand. She was still shy about scenting pack mates.

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’ll be here soon,” she said. “He had an AP class last period.”

“Ok, good. I’ll be upstairs.”

++++++

Lydia snatched up her phone when it rang. “Maria?”

“Hey . . .”

“. . . I’m sorry,” they both said at the same time, and Lydia smiled while Maria sighed into the line.

“How’d your meeting go?”

“OK.”

“Are you going? Cause when I said go, I didn’t . . . Lydia, I don’t want it to be like this.”

Lydia felt like a month of tension was bunched up in her shoulders. “And I don’t want it to be like this either, Marie, but we can’t . . . I can’t go on like this.”

“I know. I think we need to talk. Somewhere away from both our packs.”

“Agreed,” Lydia said hurriedly. It amazed her the lengths she would go to for this woman, but she had a feeling now was not the time to try to cloak her feelings like she’d been trying to do. This talk would determine what she told Harvard, what she told her pack, whether she’d be uprooting herself or not. She could admit now that despite what she’d told Laura that everything rested on her relationship with Maria.

“Ok, tomorrow? The San Antonio Centre near Mountain View. Can you make that?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“Ok, how about 1? That’ll give you time to get up here and me time to get down there.”

Lydia smiled. It was the first time Maria had made the effort to meet her half-way – literally. “Ok. See you then.”

Both hung up with small smiles on their faces. Tomorrow would decide where and how they handled this.

++++++

Chase looked at his friend. “You need to tell her, you know that.”

Maria’s head hung and she swallowed painfully. “Yea. I just pray she wants me after I do.”

Chase didn’t know what to say, what words to offer, so he just pulled her into his arms and let her cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter should be posted Sunday. I’ve been trying to get Danny and Jordan’s story started so I can continue the mystery there. Wish me luck and tell me what you think.


	3. Don't Push - I Promise To Stand Still

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lydia and Maria have a final heart to heart. Which way it goes is anyone’s guess. But Stiles has some not so good news for the pack. News that will reignite old fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s a lot of heavy stuff dealt with in this chapter. I mean emotionally heavy, involving in-depth talk of torture, death of children, as well as evidence of PTSD and massive guilt issues. Take care of yourselves if that’s your trigger. If so, I’ve marked that section in chapter with *++++++* so you can skip the content in between those stars and plus signs and read the rest. It will give you an idea of what’s covered without the gory details.

“She’s what?” Peter said and his eyes flashed red anger.

“She wants me to head the team trying to find them.”

“Isn’t that why the Realm has an army? To fight on the Realm’s behalf? To hunt down those that challenge the rules and peace of the Council and bring them to trial? Why does it have to be you?”

“Peter . . .” Stiles pleaded. Even before he left the High Council he’d known how Peter would react; how his pack would react.

“No, Stiles. No!” the Alpha all but roared, and he felt his mate’s nervousness and sorrow float through on their personal bond and immediately felt contrite, but not enough to let up on what was being said to him.

“I can find who’s doing it. I know I can.”

“Stiles, baby, you are not responsible for what’s happened and you can’t possibly bear this burden alone.”

Another pack had been attacked for no apparent reason, only this time the Council was wise enough to realise that something had to be forcing them to do it. The issue was that the attackers were enraged and blood thirsty with merely a history of such violence, that had not been repeated at least for many years. Whatever was going on was influencing or brainwashing packs with some history of violence into attacking others unprovoked. The reason the Mexico pack had been executed was because of that violent past. It never occurred to anyone to look for anything else, and Stiles did not sense anything else.

Stiles, having been the Hand that dealt with the first pack that had committed such murders, now understood that those five werewolves he’d been sentenced to execute were possibly under the same influence and therefore possibly not solely responsible for their actions. The remaining members of that pack had pled for the lives of the five, but the Council’s verdict was final. Only now did they realise their error. And Stiles, Stiles was riddled with guilt.

“Peter, if this continues, then no pack will be safe. If I figure this out now then I’m doing my duty to our pack as its Emissary to guard again possible dangers and attacks, and to the ones I killed without really understanding what was happening. I owe them at least to find out what happened to them. I need to do this Peter, please support me in this.”

“I don’t get why it has to be you,” he grumbled, pulling Stiles into his arms, acknowledging that what he knew was pure fear of the unknown on his part. They’d had such a small time together and such little peace.

“I’m not going alone. Eugene is going with me, as is Eric. The Queen is calling him back from Beacon Hills. We’re going to retrace the steps of the first five to find out where the hell this thing started and why.”

“I don’t like this, not one bit.” Peter thought for merely a second. “I’m coming with you.”

A flare of unchecked fear rushed down the Pack bond before Stiles could reign it in. “No!”

Peter conferred a solemn look on his mate, letting him know his decision was made, even as Boyd and Ethan rushed from downstairs up to their Alpha’s room, battle ready to challenge whatever had caused Stiles such fear.

++++++

Maria walked a stretch of corridor outside the restaurant where she had told Lydia to meet her. She’d grown nervous just sitting there and had told the hostess she’d be back shortly. That was near 20 minutes ago and still her nerves refused to settle.

She smelled her before she even came into view, and the view was something to behold. Lydia was in a sundress and turned heads up and down the plaza. Her red luscious curls dropped over her shoulders and cascaded down her back, the dress was yellow with splashes of red and green, and she wore tall red heels with it. Maria had dressed simply, but knew she also cut a pretty picture in the silk blouse and black and white hounds-tooth designed pants, with high heeled boots. At her throat was a knotted red scarf.

Lydia smiled when she saw her and it was only then Maria realised she was standing still in the middle of the corridor, as a patron said a rough “Pardon!” and brushed by her. She coloured slightly as she acknowledged what she perhaps hadn’t before, she was in love with Lydia Martin.

“Shit!”

“Just how a girl wants to be greeted,” Lydia said, perfect brows raised and a smile teasing her red lips. At Maria’s pale face, her smile dimmed. “Everything ok?”

The beta swallowed and nodded. “Yup. Come, I reserved us a private room.” She moved to the restaurant opening the door for Lydia who looked at her with a puzzled glance before murmuring her thanks and disappearing into the depths of the place.

Maria breathed deep and followed.

++++++

“The Queen won’t allow it,” Stiles contended.

“Now ask me if I care about what the Queen will allow. If you’re doing this, so am I.”

“You’re deliberately being unreasonable about this.”

“Ditto, sweetheart.”

Stiles sighed and turned as their bedroom door flew open, a wolfed out Boyd and Ethan battling to get through the doorway.

The Emissary sighed again.

***++++++***

“You look . . .” she couldn’t even finish the sentence, just exhale.

Lydia smiled softly. She’d been hoping and praying that their meeting wouldn’t be fraught with tension. This was a good start. “Thanks. You look great too.”

Maria nodded, looking down at the table cloth, memorising the details. “Yeah.”

“You’re not going to spend the whole evening avoiding looking at me, are you?” Lydia cajoled. She needed the beta’s eyes on her. _She needed it._

The eyes that met hers glowed gold briefly before returning to their natural hazel. They were worried but soft.

Just then the waiter slid open the door to the private room and at Maria’s nod, proceeded to their table. Both women placed their orders, along with a requested bottle of wine. The silence once the man slid the door closed once more felt a little strained, but Lydia was unsure what to do about it. Luckily, Maria broke the silence.

“I’m sorry. All of what’s been going on these past weeks, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you away, but I don’t know how to do this Lydia. I’ve been alone a long time and all I seem to do is upset you.”

“That’s not true. We’ve had some good times, Marie. It’s just that you need to talk to me and you don’t. I always feel like I’m forcing the issue anytime I ask your opinion on anything or if you’re upset and I try to comfort you I get rebuffed. It’s not a good feeling,” Lydia said softly. “I know. I know your life before this hasn’t been easy. I know you lost a lot when you lost your previous pack, your family, but . . .”

“No you don’t,” Maria interrupted.

“What?” Lydia asked puzzled.

“That’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. What I couldn’t talk to you about before. And I need you to listen until I’m done. Whatever decision you make then, I will respect, but promise me you will listen to the end.” The look on Maria’s face was one of fear and trepidation. Lydia’s heart skipped and her chest ached a bit. Whatever was coming was not easy for her lover to speak of.

She nodded, sipping the water in front of her.

“Only three other people in the pack know what I’m about to tell you – Peter, Chase and Ethan, and maybe Stiles. You never know how much he knows until he says.” She was quiet for a moment before continuing, “Everyone knows that the Alpha pack killed most of our pack. What most people don’t know is what they did before they started killing us.” Maria puffed out a little breath and sipped some water, aware that her hand shook as she did.

“I was married when the Alpha pack came. They captured our Alpha first and demanded we surrender to save his life. They wanted him to join their pack and told him he’d have to kill us all to join and if he didn’t they would kill him instead. He refuse. He was the first one they killed. The rest of us they toyed with for days.

“They forced the men to sleep with other pack mates’ wives and mates. I don’t know what it was about my family that drew their attention. James and I had two children – a twin, one boy, one girl. Maybe it was the fact that they were twins, maybe they were tired of the old games, I don’t know. But they wanted us to suffer, that much was clear. So at the urging of Ethan’s brother, Aiden, they changed the game a bit.” She paused now in clear pain. Lydia reached out and clasped her shaking hand in one of hers, encouraging her to continue.

“My children were only eight years old. They separated James and me from them and asked us to choose the first child to die. They promised that if we chose the same one, the other would be spared and the one we chose would be delivered a swift, painless death. If we didn’t, they would both die in agony. They told us in detail what they would do to them . . . it didn’t bear thinking about. Only the basest animal could think of such cruelty to children. They were only children.

“I remember James looking at me with tears in his eyes and shaking his head. Then they separated us. They didn’t want us to know what the other had said. I guess it was more fun that way,” Maria grimaced out a shaky dead laugh. “One would think it would be impossible to choose. When I told them that, one of them left the room and seconds later I heard James screaming. It seemed to go on forever and I felt like I was losing my mind. I begged and begged them to stop.

“The leader came back into the room and told me it would continue into the night if I didn’t choose. That James had chosen, all I had to do was match his choice correctly.” Maria trailed off, tears trailing down her cheeks, squeezing Lydia’s hand for strength.

“What happened?” Lydia’s voice was a soft whisper.

Maria lifted pain-filled, solemn eyes to hers. “To my everlasting shame I chose.”

Lydia’s lips fell open but no sound came out. Her heart clenched fresh, agonisingly as she imagined what the outcome would have been. After tense moments of silence she pleaded, as the first tear left her eyes: “Please tell me you both chose the same one?”

Maria dragged her hands from Lydia’s, leaving Lydia’s hands splayed across the table, empty. “There’s the kicker. James never chose. The reason they were torturing him is because he chose to die rather than choose one of our children over the other.

“They brought him back into the room laughing their heads off as they told him what I’d done. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes. The absolute scorn. After ten years together, he rejected me. It felt like all the fight went out of him in that moment . . . The last words he ever said to me was ‘how could you?’ I wanted to die. I pleaded with them to kill me, but they wouldn’t. . . They forced me to watch . . . as they . . . as they took my children from me . . .” her words disintegrated into sobs.

Lydia rushed from her seat to embrace her lover. That’s how the waiter found them when he slid open the door. His eyes flew wide before he bowed and hastily retreated. Lydia continued to hold her as she wept like the mayhem had been just yesterday.

She now understood why Maria was so hesitant to love her. She now understood the uphill battle she would have if she wanted a true relationship with this beta she held in her arms. She now understood why Chase hated her, because she didn’t deserve this woman. She couldn’t possible understand the real depths to this woman. She could never be what this woman needed.

And her heart broke again.

***++++++***

Stiles turned to look at his pack mates. Both started to calm when they realised that neither their Alpha nor his mate were in any immediate danger. Erica appeared behind them, with a wolfed out and fidgety Evie in arms; Alex and Aliss followed, as did Chase, Ethan, and finally Derek and Braeden.

The latter couple had only been with them a few weeks, after Derek had decided to move closer to home and Braeden had followed. They’d been an interesting addition to the household, Erica still fascinated with the knife-wielding woman, and Chase being a surprisingly mature influence on Derek. Peter’s nephew hadn’t switched packs, he was simply building himself up for the return home, whenever that would be.

Immediately Peter’s phone began to chime and both he and Stiles growled in surrender to the obvious.

“Maria,” said Peter, looking at his caller ID.

He answered to allay her fears gently, being careful about what he allowed himself to convey both in heartbeat and in voice to the beta, knowing this topic was something they would need to deal with face to face. The beta right now had a bit much on her plate and this kind of news, given her past, would only send her into a tailspin. He hung up and turned to face the pack.

“What the hell is going on? And don’t try to pass it off as you just did to Maria. Something’s up,” Chase demanded.

The newest Hale pups looked a bit scared and given Alissandra and Alexander’s history, Stiles was very conscious of how they handled this. He reached out for Evie, relieving her mother of the responsibility of settling her once again. Bouncing the small one on his hip and cooing to her as her beta form began to recede, rubbing a hand through Alex’s and Aliss’ hair as he stood before them. Just as he expected the ruffling annoyed them both, but enough that they scoffed and grinned at their Emissary, who was also their absolutely favourite person.

“Come in . . . everyone. This concerns all of us.” Peter invited, and the pack eased into the room, Boyd remaining close to the door as if still on guard. Chase and Ethan took up positions by the windows; Aliss and Alex, sat near each other on the ottoman at the foot of the bed faces serious once more, and Erica stood close to her mate, shoulders brushing as if to comfort each other for what was inevitably to come.

Stiles’ phone rang then, just as he knew it would. “Isaac,” he said without reaching for the mobile.

Peter took it and turned it on speaker. The beta was still in France and allied to a pack there while interning with an IGO that tackled issues of children trafficking and sexual exploitation. His stint was expected to last another four months, but he was conflicted on whether to extend it permanently as his bosses wanted to, and officially join the pack there or return to his pack in Stanford. “What’s happening?” Isaac asked in a rush, tension coiled in his voice.

“Hi, Isaac. I’ve got you on speaker. We are now about to discuss the situation with the pack. Are you somewhere you can participate?” Peter asked.

“Gimme a minute.” There was muffled shuffling for a few seconds before the beta returned. “Yea. I’m secure. What’s up?”

“Ok, before we start this, we need everyone not to panic. There are still too many unknowns for us to panic and no one is in immediate danger,” Peter cautioned, but as he said it, he could feel the concern along the pack line.

“I don’t think you’re helping dear,” Stiles said, brushing his lips against Evie’s temple as the cub cooed and reached chubby fingers up to his face. Smiling gently at the cub, and swearing he would do all in his power to keep her and the others safe, Stiles launched into his explanation of their latest supernatural threat.

++++++

“What was it?” Lydia asked as Maria, who’d abruptly stopped crying and reached urgently for her phone hung up.

“Peter says nothing, but something’s going on. Enough that Stiles was afraid for some reason.”

“Do you need to go? Are you going to be ok?”

Maria looked at Lydia and thought before she responded. “I think we need to finish what we started here. They’d let me know if something serious was up, and I don’t want to leave things between us unsettled. I don’t . . . I don’t want to lose you, Lydia and I feel like you’re slipping further and further away.” Maria grabbed the napkin off the table and dabbed her wet eyes.

Lydia looked down at their once more clasped hands. “I don’t know what to tell you, Maria. It’s obvious you’re not ready for a relationship yet. You’ve still got so much bottled up and so much unresolved from what happened to you, that I can only see us ending up here again in a few months, if not weeks. I really think you need to find some way to forgive yourself for what happened. There was no easy choice, regardless of what your mate chose. Your concern was for your children and rightly so. If you could spare them both what others had gone through, there’s no blame in that. His holding back on choosing one, however noble it was, would only have resulted in more pain, inevitably for your children, so I can’t say his decision was any more right than your own.

“That being said, you’ve locked yourself off from feeling anything for someone else for so long that I don’t know that’s something that can be resolved here and now. You’ve got to grieve and begin to heal and you haven’t allowed yourself to do that. You can’t really love me, or anyone for that matter, until you let go. Will you always think of them with love and sadness, maybe, but you don’t have to live in pain forever. I truly believe that.”

“Are you breaking up with me, Lydia?” Maria said softly.

“Not breaking up, no; but I think we should perhaps take things slowly. Maybe we need to learn to become friends first and anything else after. If we end up later on as something else, something more, great. If we don’t at least it won’t be because we don’t know or care for each other. I just think a relationship may not be for you right now. I’m not saying never. I’m saying not right now.”

“You’re taking the job?”

“I’m going to take a consulting position for the next year. It was their secondary offer. It will involve some trips and periods at Harvard, but not indefinitely. I still believe my pack needs me, and I’ve still got a hell of a lot to learn about being their Emissary. I find that while a permanent position intrigues me and would inevitably catapult me into science the way I’ve always dreamed, I think I have other responsibilities now. And I have no problem with my dreams shifting to accommodate those. Laura and the others need me and I’m going to stay.”

Maria smiled and swallowed heavily. It wasn’t the result that she’d hoped for, but it wasn’t an end of them entirely. And if she had fallen in love with this tiny, compact and remarkable banshee, well she kept it to herself for now. She was sure she wouldn’t have to forever.

“Let’s eat? I’m surprisingly starved.” Lydia said, and Maria smiled warmly and nodded.

++++++

Maria entered a very tense pack house. The silence was almost oppressive. Not even young Everdeen was making her usual baby sounds.

“What’s happened?” she asked when Peter stepped out as she closed the door behind her.

Peter looked at his beta’s red eyes and said solemnly, “Stiles and I are going away for a while. There’s something out there that we need to track and it won’t wait.”

“How bad?”

“Three packs attacked so far, and a vampire clan in Norway just sent out an SOS. We’re headed that way first. Maybe we can track whatever’s responsible from there.” He stepped up and placed palms on each of her shoulders. “What I don’t want is for you to overthink this. We will deal with it before it reaches anywhere near us.”

“Is this about the pack in Mexico? Lydia heard some rumours that the ones that did it were executed by the Council,” Maria looked beyond Peter’s shoulders to where Stiles was standing silently.

“That’s true. But since then there was another attack, in the Colorado, then one in Malta, by other such packs. So it’s not as clear cut nor coincidental as it might have seemed. We’re trying to get to the bottom of it once and for all before another supernatural group loses their loved ones.”

Maria’s heart skipped. Packs were being killed, attacked without reason, her thoughts could only swirl in one direction. **_Not again!_** She tried to reign those thoughts in. She would not allow fear to rule her this time. She needed control and resolve if she would win Lydia back; if she would be deserving of her.

Lifting her head to her Alpha, she simply asked, “When do you leave and what can we do to help.”

Peter smiled and nodded, relieved. “For now, just hold the fort and watch out for each other, and keep in touch with Beacon Hills. I think right now we have to be on our guard, but not afraid. Boyd and Ethan will be in charge when we go, but take care of each other.” He squeezed one shoulder gently.

“Yes, Alpha. Always! Whatever you need.”

“How are things with Lydia?” Stiles asked from behind.

“We’re taking a break, but continuing to talk to build a friendship and see what happens,” she shrugged.

“We’re here for you, you know that, right? Regardless of whatever else is happening anywhere in the world, you are a priority.”

The werewolf smiled at her Emissary. “I know, Stiles, but thank you.”

Her Alpha nodded and Stiles inclined his head and turned away, back up the stairs. It was time to prepare for whatever the next few hours and following days would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t kill me. I know I ended without a definite resolution to Lydia and Maria, but the direction the story took did not allow it. I promise by the end of the series there will be some kind of decision one way or another. But the mystery has begun. Next Sunday – Danny and Jordan.


End file.
